Gospel Story Finder

My dad had joined the Church in Utah in December 1991. When he came back to Nigeria, we went to church for the first time. I got baptized in January 1992 when I was nine years old. When I was 14, the prophet, President Gordon B. Hinckley (1910–2008), came to Nigeria at Port Harcourt. My family drove from Owerri to Port Harcourt. When we were driving back, the airport is along the Owerri road, we saw the prophet’s car. We told my father “Follow him”.
So, we followed the prophet to the airport. At the airport, they told the prophet some members had come to say goodbye. Nobody told us to come. We were just lucky to see the prophet on the way. While the prophet was shaking all our hands, he shook my hand and held my it and said, “Will you go on a mission?”
I said “Yes”.
The prophet said, “If you go on a mission, the Lord will bless you and your family.”
I was 14 years then and had not entered university. I got my first degree before going on a mission. I entered university life in Nigeria. University life was different and influenced me. Then the miracles began. After you get your degree, you are required to do a year of national youth service. When I was called to do my national service, I was called to Lagos. Normally, a lot of people pay money in bribes to the government to go to Lagos, but I didn’t pay anything. While I was in Lagos, I had a mighty change of heart and I prepared to go on a mission. From Lagos I was sent to Accra as a missionary. I met my wife and came back to Accra after my mission, and we got married in 2010.
I am from Nigeria; but I live in Ghana. In January 2023, I went to my village to participate in the presidential election. The Church is not there. One day a man and a woman came to visit me at my house. I am married to a Ghanaian, and they wanted to talk to me. While visiting with them, what came into my mind was the question, “what can I do for this family?” I felt like the best gift I could give this family was the gospel. I asked them if I could come to their home on Tuesday to teach them. As I was teaching them, they were responding positively. I focused on family and taught them the importance of family first. I then went to the house next door to teach their neighbors. I did not even start with my kindred. My kindred came to me later and were upset. They said to me, “how can you start a church and not even tell us?”
It was not my plan to do missionary work when I was there. I took my scriptures, but I did not even take a white shirt and tie.
As I was going around teaching the people of the village, there was a man who was baptized in 1982. He joined the Church in Lagos but when he came back to the village, the Church was not there. He became a pastor and used the Church’s Bible Dictionary and Topical Guide to teach. The people there thought he was a brilliant pastor. They didn’t know where he was getting his information from. Because he was technically a member, I focused on teaching his wife and daughter. The whole family got baptized. I was using my own money to hire a van to go to church in Umuahia, which was the closest place. The bishop and stake president were happy to receive us. My father even came from the city to the village to go to church with us.
I told my elder brother, who is a stake president in Owerri, what was going on. He said we fell under the Nigeria Enugu Mission. Eventually, we got permission to worship in my village. We decided to use my grandfather’s house to hold church in. My grandfather has passed away. When he was alive, white missionaries came to him and he said he would support the Church, this was back in the 90’s.
The people helped me move all the property and clean the house. The people cleaned the house as if they were members, but they were not yet baptized. The missionaries came and on the first Sunday, we had about 19 baptisms and later more, for a total of 39 baptisms. The stake president has applied for us to become a branch. My father came and bore his testimony and said he never thought the Church would be in his village.
The group still worships in my grandfather’s house. From my village, we now have two high councilmen called. There is someone enrolled in BYU Pathways. The Church is growing, and it makes me happy.

The missionary journey took great physical courage as well as faith. While jumping onto a ferryboat in New York, Brigham slipped and fell against an iron ring on the deck, severely dislocating his shoulder:
“I directed brothers Kimball and Hedlock to lay hold of my body, and Brother Pratt to take hold of my hand and pull, putting his foot against my side, while I guided the bone with my right hand back to its place. … When I came to a fire I fainted, and was not able to dress myself for several days.27

A pleasant young man in his early 20s sat across from me. He had an engaging smile, although he didn’t smile often during our talk. What drew me in was the pain in his eyes.
“I don’t know if I should remain a member of the Church,” he said. “I don’t think I’m worthy.”
“Why wouldn’t you be worthy?” I asked.
“I’m gay.”
I suppose he thought I would be startled. I wasn’t. “And … ?” I inquired.
A flicker of relief crossed his face as he sensed my continued interest. “I’m not attracted to women. I’m attracted to men. I’ve tried to ignore these feelings or change them, but …”
He sighed. “Why am I this way? The feelings are very real.”
I paused, then said, “I need a little more information before advising you. You see, same-gender attraction is not a sin, but acting on those feelings is—just as it would be with heterosexual feelings. Do you violate the law of chastity?”
He shook his head. “No, I don’t.”
This time I was relieved. “Thank you for wanting to deal with this,” I said. “It takes courage to talk about it, and I honor you for keeping yourself clean.
“As for why you feel as you do, I can’t answer that question. A number of factors may be involved, and they can be as different as people are different. Some things, including the cause of your feelings, we may never know in this life. But knowing why you feel as you do isn’t as important as knowing you have not transgressed. If your life is in harmony with the commandments, then you are worthy to serve in the Church, enjoy full fellowship with the members, attend the temple, and receive all the blessings of the Savior’s Atonement.”
He sat up a little straighter. I continued, “You serve yourself poorly when you identify yourself primarily by your sexual feelings. That isn’t your only characteristic, so don’t give it disproportionate attention. You are first and foremost a son of God, and He loves you.
“What’s more, I love you. My Brethren among the General Authorities love you. I’m reminded of a comment President Boyd K. Packer made in speaking to those with same-gender attraction. ‘We do not reject you,’ he said. ‘… We cannot reject you, for you are the sons and daughters of God. We will not reject you, because we love you.’”
We talked for another 30 minutes or so. Knowing I could not be a personal counselor to him, I directed him to his local priesthood leaders. Then we parted. I thought I detected a look of hope in his eyes that had not been there before. Although he yet faced challenges to work through—or simply endure—I had a feeling he would handle them well.

A new convert, Joaquim, couldn’t seem to get enough of the Church and its activities. If he happened to see us missionaries during the day, he would stop what he was doing and spend several hours street-contacting with us. He would even arrive early for church just in case there was something he could do to help. Joaquim Pinto Dias and his family quickly became pillars of the Meier Branch in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, in 1970.
Called to teach Sunday School, Joaquim fulfilled his calling with exacting zeal. If the manual called for the lessons to be forty minutes long, that is exactly how long he taught.
And then, abruptly, he stopped coming to church. As is sometimes the case with new members, the crisis was caused by a seemingly trivial event. The Sunday School president, in trying to fulfill his assignment, had shortened the prescribed class time to solve a scheduling problem. When Joaquim had objected, the president had given him a tactless reply.
Shortly thereafter the Sunday School president was called to be the new branch president. When this happened, a still deeply offended Joaquim completely stopped coming to church, and no amount of reasoning from the members or the missionaries could change his mind.
I was one of those missionaries. After a month of fruitless persuading, my companion and I decided to visit Joaquim one more time. The usual arguments once again got us nowhere. Suddenly I heard myself say, “But Brother Joaquim, have you forgiven him?”
This question came to him as a thunderbolt. He had been offended, and logic told him that the new branch president should come to him and apologize.
He thought about what I had said, then he turned to his wife and asked if she thought it was possible that he had not forgiven his fellowman, as the Savior had commanded.
She answered in the affirmative, and the situation was resolved. He would be returning to church. We said “Good night,” and left.
As we walked down the street, the impact of my question to Joaquim jolted me as it had him. I realized that I had not asked the question; it was the Holy Ghost who had spoken through me. The words had simply tumbled from my mouth as the Spirit moved me.
The Spirit of the Lord had intervened after we had exhausted all our efforts. As the significance of the event filled my soul with joy, I felt as though I had been lifted toward heaven and I fairly floated over the cobblestone streets on the way home.

On June 7, 1994, I was returning home by ferry with five other missionaries after a zone conference in Eastern Samar, Philippines. The night air was humid and heavy. After stowing our travel bags at our cots on the second level, four of us went to the front deck to escape the heat. Elders Dunford and Bermudez, however, stayed and went to sleep.
I was conversing with Elder Kern when we heard a firecracker-like explosion from the starboard side. Suddenly flames, fed by fuel from the engine room, were consuming the back of the ship. Smoke filled the passageways, followed by a power outage that left the panicked passengers in the dark.
The four of us on deck gathered together, praying for calm and clear thinking and for the Spirit to guide us. Immediately afterward, Elder Valentine walked quickly back inside the ship looking for life jackets. In the cabin he met Elder Dunford, who gave him two life jackets and left to find Elder Bermudez. Then Elder Valentine found two more life jackets in the dark. Miraculously, despite the chaos, he made it down the passageway without anyone getting in his way, and he was back on deck in 20 seconds. By this time the bow was crowded with passengers, and the flames were coming close. There was no other choice except to jump. We put on our life jackets and said a short prayer before plunging in. Elder Valentine was shoved by the panicked group behind us, but he hit the water unharmed 10 feet (3 m) below.
The area around the boat was well lit because of the fire, and we could hear the screams of people around us. The four of us regrouped a short distance from the boat, amid the crowds that had also jumped, and swam to get away from the burning three-level vessel. We prayed again, thanking our Father in Heaven for the protection we had received and asked for help in finding our companions, Elder Dunford and Elder Bermudez. Elder Valentine saw them with life jackets, but we hadn’t seen them on the deck.
As the fire went out, the night became completely dark, and the waves were rolling, making it difficult for us to stay afloat even with the life jackets. Again we offered a prayer, this time asking for guidance to someone we could help. We soon found two women with children and an elderly man, and we took turns keeping everyone afloat. We managed until we found a small raft and put the passengers on it, but we felt others could use it, so we remained behind in the water.
After 30 minutes the wind picked up, rain started falling, and the already-large waves grew. We were still not sure what had happened to the other elders and knew the storm would halt any rescue efforts. Elder Kern, acting as a voice for the group, prayed for the storm to calm and that the other elders would be protected. Within a few minutes, the storm was gone.
We waited, awed by what we had witnessed, then heard Elder Dunford yelling out to Elder Kern. We shouted and swam towards them. Elders Dunford and Bermudez had managed to jump off the ship by climbing out a window, and they had two women, without life jackets, clinging to their backs.
We stayed together for some time, then caught sight of fishing boat lights leaving the Guiuan shore area. It was not long until one boat discovered us, but it was almost full, so we placed the two women in it and waited.
We had been in the water for two hours when another boat found us and took us to shore. We made it to the missionary apartment in Guiuan in the early morning of June 8, which was my 21st birthday. We prayed for the safe rescue of others still out in the sea and again gave thanks to our Heavenly Father for the protection we had received.
I will never forget this experience, and I hope never to forget the feeling of security we had throughout the whole ordeal. The Lord truly protected us. From this experience, I gained a greater testimony that the Lord is with His children always and grants us the peace and help we need during our trials.

On many occasions our children have had dinners on a tennis court. It was interesting to watch them plan who would attend, where the food would come from, and what type of date would want to spread a checkered cloth on a piece of cement and have a picnic on a tennis court. On another occasion this same group had dinner inside a playhouse and acted like they were on the roof garden of an elegant hotel. It was interesting to watch them plan and grow and develop as they made assignments and had a truly wonderful time without it costing very much.

After Elsa joined the Church in the Netherlands, she experienced a genuine connection with a loving Heavenly Father. But as a young single adult, she also dealt with loneliness when family members and friends felt uncomfortable with her new religious beliefs and habits. “The best thing members have done for me,” she said, “is to willingly befriend me outside of church. Some go to the temple to do baptisms with me even though they have been endowed. I need to interact with members beyond Sunday to get strength and endure to the end.”

Elsa feels like her biggest challenge as a recent convert is “the expectation to suddenly understand everything,” she says. “All the acronyms, events, callings. It can be a little mind-blowing, and I sometimes worry people are judging me for not learning faster.” Additionally, like many others, she experiences social anxiety that “keeps me comfortable sitting toward the back of the chapel, rarely interacting.” Large groups are daunting, and she wonders if others judge her for her lack of participation. “It’s not that I don’t want to take part in the lessons or sing hymns openly or say a public prayer,” she explains. “It’s just that I’m afraid I might actually burst out crying in front of these people I don’t really know yet.”

Members who are nonjudgmental, Elsa says, help her the most. “They listen to my dilemmas and don’t intrude into my personal space. They act with sincerity and patience while I learn for myself what being a member is all about.” In spite of her anxiety, she accompanies the missionaries and looks out for new members and investigators. “I know how it feels to be new,” she explains, “and want to make sure no one turns away from the gifts of the gospel that saved me from despair.”

When I was seven or eight, I wanted to earn some money. I found some old bottles of shoe polish and decided to set up a shoeshine stand. I thought I was going to make my fortune. But I had to set up my stand in the attic of a granary, near the back of a lot, and, because of the isolated location, not one customer ever came. For another project, I gathered worms and sold them to fishermen for ten cents a dozen.

If we are willing to work, we can accomplish many things. When I was about thirteen, some of my friends and I decided to organize a Boy Scout troop. We couldn’t find a leader, and we really wanted to go to the Jamboree that was held by a lake many miles away. We found a ride to the Jamboree and won the award for the best camping skills, even without a leader!

As a 16-year-old priest, I was just beginning a part-time job as a radio announcer at a local station. After I offered a prayer at the sacrament table in our ward, a girl who was present told me I sounded like I was reading a commercial. Can you imagine the shame I felt? After 50 years that rebuke still stings. Brethren, remember the significance of those sacred prayers. You are praying as a servant of the Lord in behalf of the entire congregation.

One glorious day, my daughter called to say she had been given an opportunity to go with her dear friend who was on the Primary General Board to a General Relief Society meeting in the Conference Center. And joy of joys, I had been invited too! The board member had planned to take her mother who was later unable to go. We needed to go early because the third ticket--mine--was to be brought to the Center by another sister whose mother was not able to go. We did. We went early. We waited by the door of the Center for sometime, allowing others to go in front of us. I knew the board member needed to be inside by a half hour before the meeting, and so I pled with her to take my daughter and go in. I would be fine. She had made the arrangements and was the only one who knew the sister with my ticket and so she resisted. Just before the meeting was to start, the sister, who had some difficulties in getting there, came, and so our dear friend retrieved the ticket. We started into the Center only to be told we needed to go to the back of the line. Again she graciously stayed with us until we were invited to enter, and she led us to our prescribed seating. I was embarrassed to look up. The huge room was full. In my mind, the members of the First Presidency were seated directly in front of us and looking right at us. I'm certain we were the only moving people in the Conference Center and going right down to the front at that. No sooner were we seated than the Relief Society General president arose to conduct the meeting. Later, I told someone that I was embarrassed, not so much for me, but for having to make that dear board member arrive on the very hour. My friend laughed and said tenderly, "I'm sure the members of the First Presidency were just glad you made it."

I was touched by the powerfully sweet spirit and teachings of that meeting. And I was deeply touched that it was all was made possible for me because of a gracious friend and her gift of love. Again, I was taught the great blessing of selfless service, given with a willing heart, no matter the sacrifice in the contribution.

When I was a young man in the Aaronic Priesthood, we boys used to stand in our quorum meetings and repeat in unison, “Priesthood means service. Bearing the priesthood, I will serve.” This was our weekly pledge. It was part of every quorum meeting. Most of us began to understand that honoring the priesthood required our being active and serving in the Church.
In those days we played a lot of tennis. We knew that in tennis, if we didn’t serve well, we usually didn’t win. Our priesthood leaders taught us the same concept insofar as the Church was concerned. They helped us learn to serve at the proper time and in the proper way.
No boy or man fully possesses the priesthood until he learns to serve others and the Lord. It is true that someone with authority may bestow the priesthood by the laying on of hands, but until we do something by way of service to others, the priesthood lies dormant within us and is of little value. We must not fail to magnify the callings we receive.
During the past few months, I have felt that I might best serve by encouraging and helping all members to feel the necessity of keeping the simple doctrines of the gospel simple. I strongly feel that the gospel was given to us in a simple, plain, and clear manner. My mission president taught us that the gospel of Jesus Christ is beautifully simple and simply beautiful. The tendency of many is to complicate these lovely, simple requirements that the Lord has given to us.
Nothing is more simple than prayer. The Savior, while upon the earth, gave the example and commanded all to follow in His footsteps. If we have faith that our Heavenly Father lives and that we can commune with Him in a very direct way, then prayer becomes one of the most beautiful, lovely, simple acts that we can do.
I have a strong testimony that the Lord does hear and answer prayers. We are obligated to thank Him. We are obligated to converse with Him in such a way that there are no obstacles between us and our Father in Heaven. From the very beginning, the Lord has instructed His earthly children to remember Him in prayer.
One morning a good many years ago, a member of the Council of the Twelve came to my office and told me of a beautiful, touching experience that had happened to him that day. He had gone to the old Deseret Gym to enjoy the steam bath for a while. As he sat there in the heavy steam, he heard the door open and looked upward toward the door to see who was entering. He could not see anyone, but he had a feeling someone else was there in the room with him. After a few minutes he saw a young Primary-age boy about eight or nine years old who had seated himself two or three feet away. The boy gradually slid closer to the Apostle, and they finally said “hello” to each other. Then the boy moved even closer until he could look up into the face of the Church leader. The little boy said, “Mister, I think I know who you are.” The Apostle said, “Who am I?” The boy said, “I think you are one of the Apostles of the Church. I think you are the one who travels all over the ocean on big boats and little boats and all kinds of airplanes—and you are the one who never gets sick or hurt in any wrecks.” The Apostle acknowledged that he was the one who was having those great experiences. The boy then said to him, “Do you know why it is you don’t ever get killed or get hurt?” The Apostle said, “No, why is that?” The little Primary boy said, “That’s because I pray for you.”
What a touching, lovely expression of faith in a simple, wonderful way! This experience happened forty years ago, but I think of it frequently. There is far more power in simple prayer than many of us think possible.
My brothers and sisters, thousands, and even hundreds of thousands, of people pray for their loved ones each and every day. Great numbers pray for the leaders of the Church, particularly for our prophet, President Benson. I am convinced that the Lord hears the simple prayers of all people. I am sure He hears the prayer of the aged widow as well as the little child who prays with simple, plain, and understandable faith. I am also certain that a loving Heavenly Father appreciates the sincere, regular prayers of the faithful much more than the hurried, urgent appeals given only in times of crisis.
May the Lord bless and help us all to have the courage to pray with our families. Nothing is more wonderful than for parents to gather their children around them and enjoy the special, tender moments of communing with our Heavenly Father in family prayer. Nothing binds a family together more; and nothing puts us in a position to receive His blessings more than compliance with that wonderful commandment and privilege. Even for those of us who no longer have children at home, the blessing of praying together as companions is wonderful. The faithful person living alone is also lifted up and richly rewarded through humble, secret prayer.
Jesus said, “Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven” (Matt. 18:3).
May the Lord bless us and help us all to serve Him with simple, childlike faith, simple forgiveness and repentance, and especially with simple prayer, that we may enjoy the strength, power, and beauty that come from the plain and simple things of the gospel, I pray in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

When I was 10 years old, my family became refugees in a new land. I had always been a good student in school—that is, until we arrived in West Germany. There, my educational experience was a significantly different one. The geography we studied in my school was new to me. The history we studied was also very different. Before, I had been learning Russian as a second language; now, it was English. This was hard for me. Indeed, there were moments when I truly believed my tongue simply was not made to speak English.
Because so much of the curriculum was new and strange to me, I fell behind. For the first time in my life, I began to wonder if I was simply not smart enough for school.
Fortunately I had a teacher who taught me to be patient. He taught me that steady and consistent work—patient persistence—would help me to learn.
Over time, difficult subjects became clearer—even English. Slowly I began to see that if I applied myself consistently, I could learn. It didn’t come quickly, but with patience, it did come.
From that experience, I learned that patience was far more than simply waiting for something to happen—patience required actively working toward worthwhile goals and not getting discouraged when results didn’t appear instantly or without effort.

Once I was helping my mom with laundry in the basement. My brothers and sister were coming down the stairs. I was standing at the bottom of the stairs when my sister started to fall! Somehow I was able to catch her by grabbing her shirt with one hand. I think that was a miracle because the Holy Ghost helped me know where to stand and gave me strength to catch her, even though I was only three and she was two.

While I was on my mission in Hungary, I met a woman named Mária Erdõs, who exemplified the spirit of charitable service. During the German occupation of Hungary during World War II, her family opened their cellar to three young Jewish men attempting to escape deportation to the concentration camps. During this time signs were posted throughout her town threatening those who were hiding Jews and encouraging people to be on the lookout for suspicious signs—such as additional laundry hanging out to dry—that might indicate families who were harboring Jews. Despite these dangers, Mária’s family continued caring for the three men.

Unfortunately, one of them became sick. The family tried to nurse him back to health, but it became apparent that he was in need of real medical attention. Summoning a doctor, however, would mean risking their safety because of possible betrayal. Taking the advice of some friends who testified to his trustworthiness, Mária approached the head doctor of her town’s steel factory. On her way to the hospital to consult with Dr. Döffinger, Mária encountered a crowd gathered around a man who had been hanged from a lamppost. There was a sign tied around his neck that read, “Jew-hiding traitor. This is what happens to all traitors to their homeland.”

Mária, justifiably, was deeply disturbed by the scene. She knew the man and his family and struggled to understand and face her fears. She said, “He was a miner with six children, the father of a truly good Hungarian family. . . . I walked in front of this and read [the sign] and thought . . . of the Jews in our cellar. . . . You don’t know what it was like for me walking all the way down the main street [to visit the doctor] after seeing the sight of the hanged man.”

Despite her fears, Mária approached the doctor with her situation, and he agreed to help. Consciousness of the danger they faced made him share many of Mária’s reservations. She recalled, “[He] believed at first that I was testing him or something, but after that, we read in each other’s eyes that everything was in order.” Dr. Döffinger did indeed visit the family that evening, and through the course of several visits, they became close friends. The Jewish young man was nursed back to health. He survived the war in the Erdõs’ cellar.

I have often asked myself how Mária summoned the strength and courage to serve in this way. Her view is best summed up in her own words: “I didn’t need thanks for [my actions]; I fulfilled my obligation.”

Last summer I planted a garden of tomato plants, 14 in fact. Seven different species. I planted them at a time when you usually don’t plant a garden, mid-July in the heat of the summer. However, it was the only time I had to make a garden, so I did my best despite the heat.

I took those little plants from their small, temporary containers and placed them into a wide and deep plot of earth. And like most plants that get transplanted, for the first while they looked a little sad and leaned over to one side. They probably said, “Why did you pull me from my comfortable familiar container and put me in this new and unfamiliar soil with plants I don’t even know?”

When I paint, I call this transition period the “in-between period” where the painting doesn’t look like what you want it to. Where you’re in new territory, without the answers and not feeling confident. It’s when you’re sitting in unfamiliarity and adjustment. I’ve gratefully observed, however, that this uncomfortable “in-between period” often comes just before something good or even great.

Well, I took special care of those little plants and gave them extra water in the heat and tied small sticks to them to provide extra support. I put nutrients in the soil to help the roots adjust. Guess what happened over time? These tender little plants began to “get root,” [22] strengthen, and grow. And what was a small group of fragile tomato plants grew into a hearty tomato jungle! Things that I didn’t even plant began to grow—don’t ask me how.

When we get transplanted into new places—with new experiences, people, and relationships—it takes us a bit of time to acclimate and, in some cases, to understand why we are there. But as we trust in the Lord, listen for His direction, and watch for His manna day by day, He will walk with us, teach us, and help carry our burdens. He will nourish and strengthen our roots in the heat of the day.

Imagine if these plants never were transplanted from their original containers. Their development would have been stunted, and they would’ve been more vulnerable to stress and disease.

I once asked Elder Bednar with his busy schedule how he stays close to his family and how he teaches them. He is very intentional about it. In July, when he has time off they gather together at a beach house on the East Coast of the United States. There they play together and bond with each other. He asks the adults to come with their gospel questions and their parenting concerns, so that when the little ones go to sleep the adults can discuss their questions and help one another learn and grow. He asks the children to come with a goal to be achieved in the coming year. They remember and review last year’s goals and then proceed to new ones. His time with them is short, but purposeful.

During a recent trip, Julie and I attended church and saw this verse in action. A young man, soon to leave for his mission, spoke in sacrament meeting.

He said, “You all think my dad is such a good man at church, but …” He paused, and I anxiously wondered what he might say next. He continued and said, “He’s a better man at home.”

I thanked this young man afterward for the inspiring tribute he had paid his father. I then found out that his father was the bishop of the ward. Even though this bishop was serving his ward faithfully, his son felt that his best work was done at home.20

When I was seven years old, I promised the Lord that if given the opportunity, I would preach the gospel throughout the world. At that time I regularly attended the Baptist Church with my family. I did not understand many things. For example, I didn’t know why only the pastor and his assistants were allowed to speak. I felt that everyone should have the opportunity to share their feelings and beliefs about their church. However, my family and our church helped me to gain a love and appreciation for our Savior Jesus Christ and for the scriptures.
As I was growing up, my family lived less than five minutes from the Washington D.C. Temple. The temple just fascinated me as a young boy, and I always wanted to enter it, but my father assured me, “It won’t be part of your life. Don’t ever worry about that building.”
Every day I would watch my father study the Bible intensely. I knew my father was a man of God, and I began to pose many questions. He would always tell me to read the Bible and find out for myself.
A decade later, I was serving as a United States Marine security guard for the American Embassy in the Republic of Djibouti, a small country in northeast Africa. I decided to search for the truth, so I read the Bible cover to cover. As I grew closer to God, I came to realize that the Bible was the true word of God. I did not have to rely upon the testimony of my father, but I still did not have the whole truth. I longed to know why I felt compelled to live my life never drinking, smoking, or swearing and remaining morally clean. Why did I always strive to obey the commandments?
After 15 months, I was reassigned to the American Embassy in Pretoria, South Africa. I was selected as the first black Marine security guard ever to serve in South Africa. In each place I was assigned, I was handpicked because of my standards. Interestingly, President Bill Clinton phoned to ask me to accept the South Africa assignment. Those were some of the reasons that I received many recognitions and awards.
It was in South Africa that I met the Cleverlys, who were members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. The mother of the family invited me to their home at various times. She always told me about young single adult activities, but I could never attend due to my job schedule. Then she invited me to attend church, and I accepted. But before Sunday came, I had three nights of night-shift duty. I went downstairs to the library of the embassy where there was a computer with a huge search capacity. I just typed in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. All this information came up, so I just read it for eight hours the first night, eight hours the second night, and eight hours the third night. What I looked at most of all was what Latter-day Saints believed and how they applied it in their lives. Did they live according to what they had established as laws or standards of the Church?
The week preceding my visit to church, I had a dream. I was sitting at a table, and there were two young men with white short-sleeved shirts and black tags. They were sitting on the sides of a table, and I was seated at the head. I woke up, but I didn’t think much about the dream.
The first time I walked into an LDS ward, I knew there was something different about this church. Also, it happened to be the first Sunday of the month, which meant that the members had an opportunity to stand and bear testimony. Now this is the true order of church, I thought.
I was introduced to two missionaries who began to teach me. One of the young men was one of those in my dream, the exact person. Sister Cleverly invited the missionaries and me to her home for dinner. She placed us at the table exactly as my dream had predicted.
Later, when we got to the principle about baptism for the dead, I thought it was so amazing that one could go to a sacred place and do these things for people who had passed away. I just thought that was incredible, and I thought about my two grandfathers and my grandmother who had passed away. That’s when I started to feel the Holy Ghost. The teachings sounded right to me.
We got to the next principle, which is about families, and I just always knew that was true. When I heard about eternal families, I told the missionaries, “I knew this existed.”
Then the missionaries taught me about the Word of Wisdom, and it was then that I had a discovery. I don’t want to call it a paradigm shift, but it felt like my soul unfolded, and I just shed this shell and a new person came out. I felt like I was three feet off the ground. I had always lived the Word of Wisdom, and I wanted to know why I was the way that I was. No one ever had the answer to that for me, but the Lord did through the missionaries and the discussions. I knew that everything they had taught me previously was true, and everything that they would teach me would be true. I never felt the Spirit so strongly reading scriptures before, and when I read Doctrine and Covenants 89:18–21, I knew it was true. I always knew that my body was important, and I knew that it was never to be defiled.
From this point forward, I began to experience mixed emotions about becoming a member of the Church. I was concerned about my father’s opinion and his reaction to my decision. The night of the sixth discussion was a very eventful night.
During the sixth discussion, I received the message that I had an incoming call from my father. The phone rang. I picked it up, and it was indeed my dad.
He said, “Your mother informed me that you’ve made a decision to join the Latter-day Saints.”
I said yes.
He said, “I’m here to prevent that from happening.”
And I said, “You know what, Dad? I love you, and you’ll always be my dad. You’ve done a great job with me. But I’m 22. I’m a man now, and these decisions are for my family and my future. I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me and that you will continue to do for me, but this is my decision. I’m going to do it, and I know that the Lord wants me to do this.”
My dad wasn’t too happy when he hung up the phone. Immediately I got on my knees in the kitchen and asked the Lord to help me see and understand that what I was going to do was correct. I was thousands of miles away from home. I was all alone, and nothing was going right. Only when I was with the missionaries did I feel good. At that moment the Spirit testified to me that it was the Lord’s will and that the Lord wanted me to be baptized. It was a very clear voice that just said, “You’re to do the Lord’s will. You are to follow His example.” Then I knew. I never looked back after that. I was baptized on October 12, 1995.
It was a year to the day of my baptism, October 12, 1996, that I entered the Washington D.C. Temple to be endowed in preparation for serving a full-time mission to the Spain Madrid Mission.
During the first year of my mission, my parents were not supportive about my missionary service. The Lord revealed to me while I was on my mission that my family was fine, and they would be taken care of. Then things changed all of a sudden. The last six to eight months of my mission my family was very supportive. They said they were receiving blessings, and they knew it was because of my serving a mission.
After I returned from my mission, I stayed with my family for three weeks before I had to leave to enter Brigham Young University. Before school started, my father visited me, meeting my friends and seeing Salt Lake City. When I took him to the airport, he embraced me and told me, “Out of all 46 years of my life, never ever have I felt more love or the Spirit of God in my home than when you were home the last few weeks. I know that we owe it to the service that you gave in Spain for two years.”

Age 16. From Mexico City, Mexico. Loves playing the guitar, singing, reading, riding her bike, and her dog named Loki.
During the pandemic, I saw an invitation from the Young Women General Presidency to share the gospel through service. I thought about how doctors and medical workers were sacrificing their time and risking their lives to help us. I thought that maybe I could sacrifice a little bit of time and money to help them.
I had a job making and selling cookies and desserts. I decided to use part of my savings to pay for food to make sack lunches for medical workers. My parents and grandparents helped me prepare the lunches, which included a sandwich, apple, granola bar, and bottle of water. Then I wrote gracias on each bag. There were 150 bags, so my hand got super tired!
My stake president helped me get permission to share the food with the hospital. I couldn’t bring the food inside, but he showed me photos of people receiving the food. I was so happy to see their smiling faces.
Sometimes I get frustrated with people and forget to treat them as the Lord would. The Savior was kind to everyone, even if they were mad or unkind to Him. If we try to see others with the Savior’s love, we can make a difference in people’s lives. We can be a light in a world with lots of doubts. Sometimes we might feel like we’re not making a difference, but if we’re trying, that’s enough.
“Try to see others with the Savior’s love.”

My husband and I lived in the same ward as my angel mother. Each Sunday, as a member of the Relief Society presidency, I sat at the front of the Relief Society room, facing the sisters. My mother always sat in the same place on the front row.
I enjoyed watching her responses to the lessons and hearing her comments. After each meeting, she kissed my cheek and squeezed my hand. My mother and I were close, so it broke my heart when she passed away unexpectedly.
After her funeral, my emotions remained tender. When Sunday arrived, my husband asked if I would be all right attending church without him. His calling often took him away from our ward.
“I will be all right until I see Mom’s empty chair,” I said. “I don’t know if I can see that empty chair and keep my emotions under control.”
My husband suggested that I try not to look at the chair. I decided to do my best.
Everyone at church was supportive and loving. When it came time to go to Relief Society, I took my seat at the front of the room, but I kept my eyes on the floor.
As the lesson began, however, I couldn’t help but look toward my mother’s usual spot. I expected to see her empty chair, but instead I saw my ministering sister sitting in her place. She smiled at me. I felt relief and gratitude for her kindness. I was able to get through the meeting without being overcome by grief. After the meeting I thanked her.
“Seeing Mom’s empty chair was the one thing I knew I couldn’t handle today. How did you know?” I asked her.
“When I walked into the room today, I had a feeling that seeing her empty chair would be hard for you,” she replied. “So I decided to sit there.”
This kind act meant more to me than she knew. I am thankful she was in tune with the Spirit’s prompting. I know that even small acts can have a healing effect on those we minister to. I believe this is how the Savior would have us minister to each other.